


I Will Be What You Need

by phoenixquest



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age Quest: All That Remains, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Leandra's death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4987060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett is giving a reading lesson to Fenris when they're interrupted by a frantic Gamlen. No one can find Leandra, and Hawke can barely focus. Luckily, Fenris is there to support him - even when the worst happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Be What You Need

**Author's Note:**

> This story pretty much follows "All That Remains". Obviously there will be spoilers for that quest. Much angst, much sadness, just as in the game.

“Do you hear…shouting?” Hawke asked, mildly surprised. He was upstairs in the study with Fenris, continuing with his reading lessons, when there was a commotion from the main room.

“Yes,” Fenris frowned. “You don’t think Sandal tried swinging on the chandelier again?” Hawke chuckled.

“I doubt it. I should go see what it is.” He got up and Fenris joined him, the elf always preferring to stay at his side. Things had been slightly awkward for a bit after Fenris had left the night the slept together, but Hawke was determined to keep the elf in his life, and Fenris didn’t seem to want to stay away either.

“Enchantment!” Sandal was saying, sounding excited though slightly confused as the two reached the door.

“No, Leandra! Lee – ann – drah!” Gamlen’s angry voice came as Hawke rounded the corner. 

“What’s wrong, Uncle?” Hawke asked mildly. He still didn’t like the man much, but getting out of his hovel in Lowtown had improved their relationship slightly, at the least.

“There you are!” Gamlen said in relief. Sandal merely continued to watch curiously. “Where’s your mother? Is she feeling all right?”

“I’m…sure she’s all right,” Hawke said in confusion. “Why are you so upset?”

“She didn’t show up for our weekly visit,” Gamlen said, sounding nervous now. “Is she ill? She’s here, isn’t she?”

“I thought – “ Hawke began, frowning, but Bodhan interrupted.

“No, Gamlen. We haven’t seen her all day.” Hawke didn’t question this; he didn’t tend to pay a lot of attention to what his mother did, and with Fenris around, he’d paid less attention than usual that day.

“Where could she be?” Gamlen asked crossly.

“With her suitor, perhaps?” Bodhan offered. 

“Suitor?” Hawke and Gamlen said in unison, equally surprised.

“Leandra never mentioned a suitor,” Gamlen went on, his eyes narrowing.

“Well, those lilies arrived for her earlier,” Bodhan said, nodding at a vase on the side table. “I just assumed…” Garrett looked over at the lilies, confused; his mother had mentioned the idea of possibly courting again, but surely she’d have _mentioned_ if she had a suitor.

“White lilies?” Fenris spoke up suddenly, voice anxious. “Hawke – “

“Maker,” Hawke breathed as the realization washed over him. “No!”

“Don’t just leave me waiting,” Gamlen snapped. “What is it?”

“There’s a killer in Kirkwall who sends his victims white lilies before he takes them,” Hawke explained, terror kicking in. “He’s murdered several women already!”

“No,” Gamlen barked. “You’re wrong. Leandra’s fine!”

“Ignoring the facts doesn’t change them!” Hawke said angrily. His mind was racing, but he couldn’t seem to move his feet or do anything at all.

“You don’t know for sure that she’s in trouble,” Gamlen said, still angry though Hawke heard the anxiety behind it. “Maybe…maybe Leandra took another path to my house. I could’ve just missed her. I’m going back to Lowtown.” He stalked off.

“You do that!” Hawke yelled after him, wanting to hit his uncle, out of sheer frustration if nothing else. _Dammit_!

“Hawke, calm down,” Fenris said firmly. “We need to get moving. Get your armor on.”

“Right,” Garrett said, thankful for Fenris’ calm, authoritative manner. He needed it right now. “I – you’re right.”

“Sandal and I will stay here, in case she comes back,” Bodhan said as Hawke all but fled up the stairs.

“If she does, keep her here…and _don’t_ let anyone else inside,” Fenris ordered. “This is not a coincidence. She’ll be in danger soon if she isn’t now.”

Hawke swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he dressed himself in his armor. No. This…this couldn’t be happening. Not to Mother. He would not lose her, too!

“I’ll – I’ll be back,” Hawke said as he ran downstairs. “Fenris, I’m sorry, we’ll continue later. You can just go home if you like – “

“No,” Fenris said at once. “I’m coming with you. You don’t know what you may face.” Hawke felt gratitude flood through him and wanted to pull the elf into a tight hug, though he refrained.

“Thank you,” Hawke said shakily. “I – I don’t – “

“Calm down,” Fenris said again, his voice softer than usual. “We’ll find her, Hawke. It’s no use making yourself crazy over it now – you need a clear head.”

“You’re right,” Hawke agreed. “Just…we have to hurry.”

“Indeed,” Fenris nodded. They made their way through Hightown, running into Varric; Fenris explained the situation – Hawke still couldn’t seem to think straight – and he joined them. Just into Lowtown they met Anders, who offered his aid as well. Hawke agreed, though Fenris didn’t think it likely to be needed. He’d never argue with Hawke in this state, though, so the group continued into Lowtown.

“I told you already,” a voice came as they rounded a corner, and Hawke saw Gamlen talking to a child on the street. It was already after dark. “I saw her!”

“Did you see where she went?” Gamlen snarled, crossing his arms.

“What do I get for telling you?” the child asked.

“Coin,” Hawke choked out, hurrying over to them. “Here’s silver. Buy yourself some food. And new shoes. Please…tell me!”

“That’s real silver, that is!” the child gasped. “I’m your man, through and through! Tell you everything I know.” The child proceeded to explain he’d seen Leandra, and she’d been helping a man who seemed to be injured.

“I’ll destroy anyone who touches one hair on her head,” Hawke growled when the child finished his story. 

“Yes,” Gamlen said warily. “You…you go do that. You’re good at that sort of thing. I’m going to go home in case Leandra shows up.”

“Of course you are,” Hawke snapped. “Fine. Go.”

“The man left some blood, where he fell over,” the boy pointed out helpfully. “You could follow it.”

“Thank you,” Hawke said gratefully. “ _Thank you_ , boy.” He hurried over to the blood stain. “It’s fresh,” he said to the others. He realized his voice sounded hysterical.

“I’ve never seen you like this, Hawke,” Anders commented worriedly.

“His mother’s been taken by a serial killer, mage,” Fenris snapped. “Do you expect him to be _relaxed_?”

“Stop it, both of you,” Varric broke in. “Not now.” They were hurrying after Hawke, who had found the next puddle of blood.

“Maker, I hope I’m not too late,” Hawke panted as they ran. “How can anyone lose this much blood and still be alive?”

“It was likely a ruse,” Fenris reminded him. “The man wasn’t that injured, not if he was taking her.”

“Blood magic could be involved,” Anders added with a heavy sigh. “It wouldn’t make it difficult to have these puddles like this.”

“Dammit,” Hawke choked. _No!_ He wouldn’t lose it now. He had to save his mother! He had to focus.

They rushed on – Hawke wasn’t sure he’d ever gone through Lowtown so fast before.

“There! The Foundry!” Hawke said, seeing the trail of blood leading up the steps. “They must have gone inside!” Fenris and Anders glanced uneasily at one another, but didn’t comment aloud.

The group hurried inside, but then stopped rushing; it had such an eerie feeling to it, they were sure running through the place would be a bad idea.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Varric asked Hawke. Hawke swallowed hard, trying to control his breathing. Yes. He had.

“I wonder if we’ll find more than just a sack of bones this time,” Anders mused. Fenris growled at him and put a hand on his sword, turning to the mage.

“Don’t,” Fenris advised angrily. “Not. Now.”

“Mother must be here somewhere,” Hawke said, ignoring Anders and feeling gratitude for Fenris. “We have to look around.”

“More blood,” Varric said, pointing at another puddle. “They’re here, somewhere.”

“Yes,” Hawke said, rushing over to it. The helpful trail continued, leading them into a storage room of sorts.

“There’s a trapdoor,” Fenris said, pointing.

“This wasn’t here before,” Anders said uneasily.

“Mother must be down there, with him,” Hawke said. His voice was trembling as much as he was now. He’d never been so scared in his life. Carver had died before he even knew what happened; Bethany’s death had been painful, but not frightening. That a killer had his mother, however…

“Then we’ll find her,” Fenris said. “Let’s go.”

Upon descending through the trapdoor, they were almost immediately set upon by shades. They were easy enough to destroy.

“There is definitely magic involved, then,” Anders said heavily. The others didn’t reply; the knowledge was far from comforting.

“Hawke,” Varric said suddenly, and Garrett turned to see him pointing off to the side. A woman was laying there, her back to them…but she had the same gray hair as Leandra.

“Mother!” Hawke cried, running toward her, his heart leaping into his throat. The body rolled over easily; it was definitely dead. It was also definitely not Leandra. Hawke let out a shaky breath.

“Alessa,” Fenris said. “A noblewoman in Hightown. I heard she’d been taken.”

“I found a note,” Anders spoke up, and Hawke whirled to face him. “’Used quicklime to preserve her feet. Unsure whether the…’” he broke off, looking nauseated. “’the texture of the skin is to my liking. Will try other methods.’ This _cannot_ be anything good.”

“I don’t even want to think about what that means,” Hawke agreed, feeling sick. Fenris threw a ragged cloth over the stubs where Alessa’s feet were missing before Hawke could turn back and see.

They went along again, hurrying but looking out sharply for danger, and came across another batch of shades, then a rage demon. There was a note there, too; this one mentioned Mharen, one of the mages who’d gone missing before.

All of a sudden, Hawke stopped running and fell to his knees.

“Hawke?” Anders asked worriedly, readying a healing spell, but Hawke picked something up and held it wonderingly.

“I know this locket,” he murmured. “It belongs to Mother.” He sounded hysterical, on the verge of either crying or killing someone…or both. His hand shook so badly he couldn’t pocket it; Fenris took it gently from him and placed it in the warrior’s pouch.

“We keep moving,” Fenris ordered, gentle but firm. “Let’s go, Hawke.”

“Yes,” Hawke said, endlessly grateful for the elf’s calm presence. He dimly registered how strange it was that Fenris _was_ being so calm about this, especially considering magic – specifically blood magic – seemed to be involved. But there wasn’t time to think about it just now.

Moving along, they found what seemed to be a bedroom of sorts. It was furnished, as well as one could expect for being in a filthy, reeking cave, and there were papers all over it.

“Does he _live_ here?” Hawke asked incredulously. No sooner had he spoken than they were attacked by demons once more. They focused on the fight, Hawke channeling his terror and rage into his swings.

When they were at last alone again – none harmed beyond what Anders could quickly fix – the four spread out to look around for any clues as to what was going on. 

“He’s got quite a collection of books,” Anders mused, noticing the titles. “Blood magic, necromancy…where did he get all these?”

“Why would he have these?” Hawke asked, unsettled. “What’s he planning?”

“Nothing good,” Varric said. “Found this.” He held up a letter, and Hawke scanned it. Someone named “O” had found these books for this killer, and was “fascinated” by whatever work the man was doing.

“But what _is_ he doing?” Hawke asked. “Why all the women?”

“Hawke,” Fenris said uneasily, and Garrett turned to find him staring at something. The others joined them.

“What…is this?” Varric asked softly.

“The woman in the painting,” Hawke said, anxiety threatening to overwhelm him. “She almost looks like Mother.”

“A shrine dedicated to a wife? A sister?” Anders guessed.

“I need to find her,” Hawke said hysterically. “Now.”

Fenris didn’t bring up the other letter he’d found near the bed. He was beginning to have his suspicions, but it was too terrible to think about, let alone say out loud…and in any case, scaring Hawke further would achieve nothing.

They ran along another long corridor before finally coming out into an open cavern. At the far end, a man with a staff and mage robes was facing them, facing a chair. Sitting upon the chair was a figure Hawke couldn’t see, but his stomach dropped to his feet anyway.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” the man said as Hawke and the others stopped short. Hawke didn’t know what to do – he was afraid provoking the man would make him kill the figure in the chair, the one he was _sure_ was his mother. “Leandra was so sure you’d come for her.”

“Where is she?” Hawke demanded, anger taking over again.

“You will never understand my purpose,” the man said. “Your mother was chosen because she was special, and now she is part of something…greater.”

“Spare me the demented rambling,” Hawke spat as the mage advanced upon them. “Where. Is. She?”

“She’s here,” the mage said simply, grinning. “She’s waiting for you. I have done the impossible,” he added, holding out a hand to stop Hawke going toward the chair. “I have touched the face of the Maker and lived. Do you know what the strongest force in the universe is?” He turned to face the chair again. “Love,” he added, and the sappiness in his voice made Hawke’s blood run cold. “I pieced her together from memory. I found her eyes, her skin, her delicate fingers…and at last, her face.” He sighed, going to stand in front of the chair again. Hawke was barely paying attention to the words, only afraid to move closer. Would he kill her? “Oh, this beautiful face. I’ve searched far and wide to find you again, beloved, and no force on this earth will tear us apart.” 

Hawke didn’t know what to make of this rambling – pieced her together? He was in love with Leandra?

Hawke watched, unable to move, as the figure from the chair stood. A mockery of a wedding dress and veil covered her, but Hawke was more sure than ever of her identity. She was moving strangely…limping, almost. Like she couldn’t quite keep her head up, or figure out how to move. It reminded him of Bethany when she’d contracted the Blight.

Then, slowly, the figure turned to face them. White, dead eyes stared at him from his mother’s pale, deathly face. A harsh red line split her neck. And then he understood.

He stumbled backward, almost falling, but Fenris caught him, somehow. He wanted to scream, but the sound wouldn’t come out.

This was worse than the worst nightmare.

Before Hawke could recover even slightly, the room was filled with various shades and demons; they all started the attack on Hawke’s group.

“Hawke!” Fenris barked. “You must fight!” He slashed a shade in two right in front of the man, and somehow that jerked Garrett into action. Pulling his sword from his back, he tried to force the sight of his…his _mother?_...out of his head. It didn’t quite work, but he couldn’t let the mage win. He _wouldn’t_. He would fix this and find some way to save her.

It was a long, horrible fight; it took the energy he had left and then some. Finally, he cut the mage in two, killing him utterly, and as he fell, silence did, too. Garrett was panting. He heard a strange shuffling behind him and whipped around, ready to face another demon, but his sword fell to the floor a moment later.

“Mother!” he cried softly as the body stumbled to him. He caught her as she nearly fell, and he fell to his knees with her in his arms. “Oh, Mother,” he said, and choked back a sob. “Anders,” he said pitifully over his shoulder. “Anders, please. Heal her. Fix…fix this.”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Anders said, pain and pity in his voice. “His magic was keeping her alive.”

“I knew you would come,” the body spoke. It was, at least, Leandra’s voice. The one he’d always known. Since he was a little boy, the one who scolded him, who doted upon her other two children, who chastised him for letting Carver die. Then Bethany. And now…her.

“I’m so sorry,” Hawke choked. “I tried to find you. I wasn’t fast enough. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” the strained voice murmured. “Don’t fret, darling. That man would have kept me trapped in here. But now…I’m free.” A tear splashed from Hawke’s face onto his mother’s. “I’ll be with Bethany and Carver…and your father. But you’ll be all alone.”

“I failed you,” Hawke sobbed. “I should have watched over you more closely, I should have…” he broke off, his throat constricted too tight to allow speech.

“My little boy has become so strong,” Leandra said. “I love you. You’ve always made me so proud.” That might’ve hurt worst of all, Hawke thought; he hadn’t made her proud. He’d failed her with Carver, with Bethany, and now with herself. He’d always, _always_ failed her.

“Mother…” he sobbed, clutching at her. He swore he could feel it when the last of her life left her body.

“Hawke,” Fenris finally said, kneeling next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. The elf’s voice was softer than Hawke had ever heard it. “We need to go. She’s gone.”

*****

Hawke could hardly remember getting back to the estate. He knew it was only thanks to the efforts of Varric, Fenris, and Anders. Stepping in the door was some sort of a jolt, though; suddenly, he remembered he had to move on his own. 

“I’m sorry, Hawke,” Varric murmured. “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

“Yes,” Hawke said, his voice rough. “I – thank you.” Varric and Anders both left.

“Master?” Orana asked, coming into the foyer. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, Orana,” Hawke murmured. “Thanks.”

“Draw him a bath, if you don’t mind,” Fenris said, careful not to order her. He was always so careful about that. “And prepare him something to eat.”

“Yes, messere,” Orana nodded. “Are you staying, too?” Fenris swallowed hard, and looked at Hawke; the man didn’t seem to comprehend the question or anything else that was going on. He sighed.

“Yes, I am,” he said. He could at least help Hawke function for the moment. “I’ll go later -“

“No,” Hawke spoke up, reaching out to clutch Fenris’ wrist. Fenris froze, surprised – Hawke never reached out for him like that, never wanted to startle him with it. “ _Please_. Don’t go.” Fenris could see the desperation in Hawke’s eyes.

“All right,” Fenris agreed. “I won’t.”

*****

Sometime later, Hawke had bathed and they’d both eaten – Hawke had nibbled at a bit of bread, anyway. Hawke told Bodhan and Orana of Leandra’s fate, though he didn’t go into detail – they didn’t need to hear it. It was bad enough _he_ knew.

Fenris had stayed with him the entire time, not speaking much but simply being present. Garrett appreciated it more than he could ever tell the elf.

“Messere?” Bodhan said quietly, coming into the living room. Hawke was sitting in one of the fancy chairs by the fireplace, Fenris in the other next to him.

“Yes?” Hawke asked, his voice scratchy. He hadn’t shed a tear since holding Leandra’s body, but he hadn’t spoken much, either.

“Gamlen’s here to see you,” Bodhan said. “I…didn’t think it was my place to tell him.”

“Right,” Hawke said heavily. “Send him in.”

“Are you sure about this?” Fenris asked quietly.

“He needs to know,” Hawke said simply, still staring into the fire. He wished the flames could burn the images from his mind. Fenris didn’t protest further.

“Well?” Gamlen asked anxiously as he walked in. “Did you find her?” Hawke was silent for a long moment; he couldn’t make himself speak. Finally, however, it came to him.

“I’m sorry, Uncle,” he murmured. “She’s gone.” Gamlen paused, shocked.

“You were right, then,” Gamlen whispered. “About the flowers and everything. I…I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“It was my fault,” Hawke said, forcing his voice to be steady. “I wasn’t fast enough. I let Bethany down,” he added. “I promised her I’d look after Mother.”

“So you’re to blame!” Gamlen exploded. “If you’d been quicker or stronger, you could’ve…she could be…” Hawke couldn’t bring himself to reply. The accusations stung, though he knew they were true – they were all he’d been thinking since he’d found her. He heard Fenris growl softly from the chair next to him, and even the mabari, Duke, looked up at that.

“Don’t,” Hawke said softly to Fenris. The elf continued to look angry, but didn’t say anything.

“Why her?” Gamlen said then with a sob. “Why Leandra?” Hawke sighed. He might as well tell the man everything. He got up, feeling like he just couldn’t stand to sit any longer. He continued to stare at the fire.

“She looked like someone,” Hawke said softly, continuing slowly. “The killer used Mother to magically reconstruct his dead wife.” Hawke wondered at how cold and impassive his voice sounded. It was easier this way, though. “They had the same…face.” He heard Gamlen stumble backward.

“What sort of nightmarish magic is that?” Gamlen whispered in horror. “Oh, Maker…” He paused, then spoke again angrily. “Maybe the Templars are right,” he said. “Lock the mages up! Throw away the key!” Hawke couldn’t deny that a part of him agreed, but as always, he thought of his sister. His poor, sweet sister.

“I’m glad Bethany died before she could hear you say that,” Hawke said quietly, turning away from the flames at last. His uncle looked nearly as miserable as he felt. Gamlen turned away.

“I wish magic hadn’t touched her,” he muttered. “She would’ve been better off. Magic’s always run in this family; it’s a curse. Now even your mother’s fallen victim to it.” Hawke didn’t know what to say, so he stayed quiet. “I wish you’d never told me what that twisted son of a bitch did to her,” Gamlen choked out, tears in his voice again. “I wish I hadn’t asked.” He paused, a sob overtaking him. “I hope you killed him.”

“Yes,” Hawke nodded. “Of course I did.”

“Good,” Gamlen snapped, a sniffle coming right after. “I hope it hurt.”

“Me, too,” Hawke agreed.

“I should…talk to the city guard,” Gamlen said. “Make arrangements to retrieve Leandra…Leandra’s body.” He sighed. “Take care, my boy,” he finished, in the kindest tone Hawke had ever known him to use. He walked out without another word, and Hawke’s shoulders sagged as he stared at the floor.

“How dare he walk in here and accuse you like that,” Fenris growled, getting up. “You should’ve let me – “

“He’s right,” Hawke interrupted, his voice dull. “Everything he said was right. It…it doesn’t matter. She’s gone.” Fenris sighed, his head falling. “I’m…I’m going to bed.” He turned then, not paying attention to what Fenris chose to do. He wouldn’t make the elf stay; in any case, it didn’t feel like it mattered. Nothing did.

He remembered arguing with his mother over Fenris. She, of course, was still convinced Garrett was ‘playing around’, and it wasn’t befitting a nobleman to be courting an elf.

He’d never given her the grandchildren she wanted. Not that he had plans to, but it seemed such a stupid thing now. Of _course_ she deserved them. She deserved anything. Better than him. She deserved a son who could have made her _happy_.

He sat down on the end of the bed, unwilling to even lie down. He knew better than to close his eyes; he knew what he’d see if he did. The door creaked open; he didn’t look up. It couldn’t be anyone dangerous, and beyond that, it mattered little.

“I don’t know what to say,” Fenris confessed. “But…I am here.” Hawke looked over then, almost smiling at the unsure elf in the doorway.

“Fenris,” Hawke breathed, shaking his head slightly. He sighed. “You…don’t need to say anything. I just…don’t really want to be alone.”

“Then I shall stay,” Fenris said simply. He crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to Garrett.

“Thank you, Fenris,” Garrett murmured. “You know you don’t have to.”

“I know,” Fenris agreed. He knew he _shouldn’t_ , really; knew it was a bad idea, after he’d run out on the man before; this couldn’t help anything. But he put his arm around Hawke’s shoulders, wanting to simply give the man some sort of comfort, however little. Hawke took a deep breath, and as though Fenris’ touch was a catalyst, found himself sobbing hysterically within seconds. Fenris was startled and uneasy, but didn’t pull away; Hawke needed him, and the man had always been there for him – it was only right he be there for Hawke.

It seemed a long time that Hawke sobbed heartbrokenly on Fenris’ shoulder. The elf moved to rub his arm, to hold him more tightly; it was all he could do. He’d never seen the man in so much pain, not even after losing Bethany.

“I’ve lost everyone,” Hawke finally sniffled. “I…I’m alone now. Father, Carver, Bethany, now Mother – I have no one.”

“You have your friends,” Fenris reminded him. “Myself. Aveline. Varric. Isabela. The witch. And I suppose the abomination.” Hawke managed a choked laugh.

“No ranting about the evils of magic?” he asked thickly. “Now of all times?”

“Would it help?” Fenris asked. He kept his arm around the man. “Your uncle said plenty, but you were right – there’s Bethany to consider.”

“Yes,” Hawke sniffled. “Beth. I promised her…”

“You kept your promise, Hawke,” Fenris said quietly. “Not even you can save everyone from everything every time.” Hawke sighed, his breath catching on another small sob, but it quickly passed.

“Thank you, Fenris,” Hawke sniffled. “I…I needed this.”

“And that is why I am here,” Fenris said softly. 

*****

It took a few weeks before Hawke was able to move on even a little. The whole time, somehow, Fenris was there. The elf had broken things off; Hawke had never expected this kind of support, would never have dreamed of asking for it. But it was just what he needed. Fenris didn’t try to make jokes like Isabela; he didn’t try to make Hawke feel better with meaningless platitudes like Anders. He had chased Merrill from the house when she tried to defend blood magic; it had been a little rude, but Hawke couldn’t _bear_ to hear such things.

Always, Fenris was by him. Usually silent, sometimes sarcastic, always present. It was precisely what Hawke needed, and when Fenris finally picked up a book to begin a reading lesson again, Hawke managed a small smile. 


End file.
